Twenty Truths and a Lie
by Singofsolace
Summary: For each LOK character, I will write twenty truths and one lie. Your job is to spot the lie and post in your review which number out of the twenty-one statements/stories is the actual lie and the reasons as to why you think you are right. Chapter Three: Katara is a mother before she is a sister, aunt, or wife.
1. Lin Bei Fong

A/N: I am trying a new, multi-chapter game, so to speak. I call it Twenty Truths and a Lie. If you have ever played the game, two truths and a lie, you know how to play. You have to try and figure out which one is the lie. This first chapter is Lin's. I plan to go through as many characters as I can, writing each character a separate list of twenty truths and a lie. It is the reader's job to try and figure out which number is the lie. In your review, post which number is the lie and I will post the answer in the next chapter. The lie in this one is relatively simple to find. I am sure you are all capable of finding it. Please let me know what you think of this game and whether or not I should continue! I don't own Legend of Korra but the writing is mine.

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**Twenty Truths and a Lie:** _Lin Bei Fong_

1. Lin Bei Fong never considered herself a liar. Honesty was akin to loyalty, and she was not one to waver in her allegiances. But there were a few times—particularly when she was no longer young but not quite so old—when lies were kinder than the truth and consequences were not so severe as to require strict adherence to a moral compass she had lost long ago.

2. Lin was skilled in the art of _deception_. This is not the same as being a liar; anyone in the business of surviving would say the same.

3. When Lin was four years old, she earned her first scar; it was small, angular, and much thinner than those that would follow it. She cried for twenty minutes before Aunt Katara had healed the deep puncture wound left by the hook, the little girl's tearful green eyes staring at the uneven flesh of her thumb that would forever serve as a reminder of her first fishing lesson with Uncle Sokka. Her aunt said to be grateful there weren't _two _hooks this time.

Sokka did not appreciate the joke.

4. In the months that followed, it was typical for Lin and her uncle to exchange a thumbs-up as a way of greeting, showing off their matching scars and smiles.

5. Despite Lin's self-proclaimed clumsiness, she was actually a very skilled dancer. When she was ten, Uncle Aang taught her an ancient combination of steps and motions of the air nomads—despite her mother's insistence that learning such useless "ballerina" skills was a waste of time for an earthbender—and Katara taught her a traditional southern water tribe dance that held the echoes of a culture born and raised in a harsh and unforgiving climate. But the dance Lin liked best was the style that was more frequently found in the fire nation, which was much livelier and had a bit of a wild and unpredictable air about it that spoke more easily to her free spirit. Bumi would join her in this dance, while Tenzin preferred the calmer modern waltz.

6. The day Lin learned to waltz properly, she was blushing and there was a ribbon tied in her hair to keep her long, dark mane out of her eyes. She was thirteen, and she was with Tenzin in the pavilion where he usually did his morning meditation. When she placed a timid hand on his shoulder and his slipped around her waist, she felt her stomach flip as butterflies beat their wings against its walls.

7. Lin did not dance at Tenzin's wedding.

8. The chief of police had a habit of keeping the strangest hours and working the oddest shifts. She did not have a consistent sleep schedule, and scoffed at the notion that one was necessary to perform at one's physical best. Years of harsh training and experience had taught her body lessons most never have to learn.

9. Time is a cruel, though effective, tutor.

10. A few weeks after Lin's mother died, Kya was the one to find her at three in the morning, standing at the edge of the dock, looking out across Yue Bay to Republic City. Together they sat in silence, side by side, on the edge of the dock with their feet dangling over the water, and waited for the sun to rise.

11. It was then that Kya realized that at just fifteen, Lin had mastered the methods of getting lost long before others even noticed she was gone.

12. "Lost," was a quick and easy word to say, unlike "lonesome," "terrified," or "distressed." Kya preferred the word "lost" because she was very good at finding things, and so was her mother and brothers. The trick was in convincing said "lost" thing to want to be found.

13. Lucky for Lin, Kya knew when to search and when to wait. Lost things have a way of returning when they grow tired of hiding.

14. Cowardice was one quality she saw in some of the new police recruits that she did not tolerate. There were no cut and run responses, no retreats or submissions before a proper battle had been fought. The law was not weak; she refused to tolerate weakness among her officers.

15. Lin was a hypocrite; she was also of the opinion that not all battles are worth fighting. (Particularly those that took place between hearts).

16. Growing up, Lin was not afforded the same luxuries as other children. If she wanted something, she had to work for it. She trained more than she played. She learned to grow a thick skin and worship her calluses. She was not afraid of blood, did not mourn the purity of her skin once scars had come to line her arms and legs in ugly stretches of raised flesh. She was not vain, though there were days when she was young when she wondered if she would ever be as beautiful as her mother or her aunt.

17. There were also days when her mother scoffed at the feeling of a silk bow or ribbon in her daughter's hair and Lin knew that physical beauty was something her mother could not see and thus could not force herself to understand.

18. When Tenzin called her beautiful, Lin had to stop herself from mimicking her mother's sneer and scoff. The truth was that she did not mind hearing those words, though it took several years for her to become familiar with their sound.

19. Lin sometimes wonders if Tenzin knows how much she misses the sound of his voice humming as they danced or the way his smile could ease the anxiety right out of her spine. Some days she sees him and feels an incredibly irrational urge to ask him if he still remembers the way she used to sneak into the male dormitories to make his bed for him when they were young because he was hopeless with folding the sheets and his mother would punish him whenever he did it poorly. In exchange, he would swipe an extra piece of fruit for her from the kitchen so that they would have something sweet to eat before they got started on their chores. She wants to know if he remembers, though she is certain that he does. What she _really_ wants to know is does he miss it.

(Does he miss _**them**_?)

20. There is no regret. They are happy, in their own, separate ways. They both achieved what they wanted in life. Tenzin has a wife and four beautiful children; she has firmly upheld her mother's legacy. They have found happiness. Pretending otherwise would be a lie.

21. Lin has never found comfort in a lie.


	2. Tenzin

**Answer to Chapter One with explanation:**

Let me begin by saying that I completely understand that this game is a bit unfair in that the backstories of each of the characters that will be featured in this collection are my own creation, and thus truths and lies are in my head and cannot be proven, but I did and will continue to try my hardest to keep each and every entry unbiased and realistic so that you have a very good chance of guessing the right answer. I will never make the answer something that you have no way of knowing, for instance if the lie was something silly like: Tenzin's favorite color is green, not blue, or something along those lines.

I realize now that the answer I intended to be the right answer may not have been as obvious as I first thought, which pleases me, because that means that there were enough "distractors" to keep you away from the truth. The biggest two "distractors" were intended to be numbers seven and twenty, because both had a great possibility of being wrong: (7) Lin could have not attended the wedding at all or could have danced with Bumi or someone other than Tenzin and (20) It is highly possible that Lin and Tenzin _**do**_ regret the way things turned out. Twenty was the best wrong answer, so to speak, because I believe that at one time there probably was a bit of regret, but I am of the opinion that now that Lin and Tenzin are upwards of fifty years old and have achieved their goals in life, they have accepted things and moved on. They may still love each other, and feel sorry that it did not work out, but I do not believe that they regret the way their lives are now. I believe they are happy, if only because they understand that what is done is done and regret will get them nowhere.

With that said, I present the answer that I intended to be the lie: twenty-one, "_Lin has never found comfort in a lie_." This statement is false, in my opinion. Lin has in fact found comfort in lies all of her life. I thought the impact of the last line of twenty_: Pretending otherwise would be a lie_ and twenty-one following directly after: _Lin has never found comfort in a lie_ would give you the impression that it wasn't the truth. I believe that there have been many times that she has lied to herself just to get some sleep at night. I think we all take comfort in lies, at one time or another, and I think that in the past Lin _has_ lied to herself and others to keep the nightmares and memories at bay. Also, number one was an intentional set up for this: "Lin Bei Fong never considered herself a liar…but there were a few times…when lies were kinder than the truth and consequences were not so severe as to require strict adherence to a moral compass she had lost long ago." A big shout out of congratulations goes to _DrkVrtx,_ who had the right answer and the correct explanation. Well done.

So there you have it. This next entry is Tenzin, because I felt it would be remiss of me to do anyone else right after Lin. Let me know which character's twenty truths and a lie you want me to write after Tenzin. I am thinking of writing Korra's, just because that would be a good start to the rest of the characters, but let me know if you would prefer a different character.

(Most explanations won't be this long, I promise. I just had a lot to say for Lin.)

FYI: A half-truth is considered a lie, by my standards. If there is a line you are certain is a lie in the midst of a paragraph that seems true, you can say that the whole paragraph is the lie and you may be correct.

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**Twenty Truths and a Lie****:** _Tenzin_

1. Tenzin was never fond of thunderstorms. When he was young, they reminded him of a story his father had told him about the time Azula had almost killed him while in the Avatar state during the war. Bright flashes of light fueled Tenzin's nightmares for years, and every time the sky was torn between roars of thunder and lightning strikes he would hide in his bedroom until the storm had passed.

2. Lin found him once, hiding under the bed. She had been looking for someone to help build a pillow fort with her, but when she knocked on Tenzin's door she had heard a loud shout of surprise and fear. Upon opening the door, she found the room empty all but for two shaking feet sticking out from under his bed. When she could not convince him to come out, she joined him among the dust bunnies and lost socks and waited out the storm cramped beside her best friend in the too-small space beneath his bed.

3. Tenzin didn't have any nightmares of a bright flash of light or his father falling through the air that night.

4. Kya loved her baby brother, but she also enjoyed teasing him incessantly. Anything from his bald head to his love of vegetables was ripe material for a joke. Bumi was also always on the lookout for a good punch line that would be at his brother's expense. It would seem that Tenzin could not catch a break, not even when his mother and father were around.

5. Tenzin developed a very dry sense of humor at a young age, and very seldom found his sibling's jokes funny.

6. Katara had a habit of coddling her children, especially her youngest son. This stood in stark contrast to Toph's rather lax style of mothering, and so the warterbender had to wonder just how to approach the care of a child who was not used to being fussed over. Tenzin envied Lin's freedom, while Lin insisted that it was not all he cracked it up to be.

7. Tenzin sometimes wished he could trade places with his friend on the days he felt smothered by the constant attention of the acolytes and his parents.

8. Bumi once introduced Tenzin to his United Forces buddies during a short leave of absence while their ship re-stocked in the harbor of Yue Bay. They took him to a bar, where they insisted that Tenzin—then just sixteen years old—have a drink or two (or twelve). When Tenzin refused, Bumi, with the air of a young man not wanting to be embarrassed by his baby brother, said in a rather loud, spiteful voice that he should go back to Air Temple Island for some of his mother's hot cocoa if he didn't want to drink.

9. He was tipsy by the third drink, drunk by the fifth, and rip-roaring by the eighth. Lin arrived sometime after most of the soldiers had left to make sure Tenzin made it home safely. Bumi had long since ditched with his friends, but not before calling Lin to come pick up his lightweight brother. The glare she gave him the next morning was one to rival his mother's worst stare.

10. The resultant hangover the next day and his mother's unbridled fury with him and his brother ensured that Tenzin did not make a habit of drunkenness.

11. A few years later, his father informed him that Lin had been attacked and severely injured during an investigation of a violent bar fight between two triad members at one o'clock in the morning with her fellow new police recruits. It was their first assignment and their inexperience was difficult to overcome. Tenzin was not permitted to see her until late in the afternoon, and when he finally did see her, he remembers nothing but the numbness that had taken over his body and the way his stomach dropped and rolled like a fire had been set upon it.

12. There are very few times in Tenzin's life that he remembers being truly, genuinely afraid. Seeing half of Lin's ash-white face covered in gauze is one of them.

13. The jagged scars that stretch angrily across Lin's cheek bother Tenzin more than they bother her, which both upsets and relieves him. He still thinks she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, but he is also reminded every time he looks upon her face that she is a warrior dedicated first and foremost to the protection of Republic City.

14. Sometimes Tenzin catches himself mentally erasing Lin's scars one by one away from her body and wants to kick himself for doing it.

15. Like a naïve, ignorant child, Tenzin foolishly assumes that his father will never leave him. Death is so far from his mind that when his father falls ill, Tenzin does not even think to be more than a bit concerned until it is too late. His father dies at sixty-six—too young, he thinks, and yet he knows his father's body is really one hundred years past its prime—and Tenzin is so shocked that he does not immediately remember to go to the temple and pray for his father's spirit.

16. Instead, he spends the night in his fiancés apartment, allowing himself the vulnerability to cry in her arms. He wonders what this means for them, what it means for the airbending race, and realizes that Lin has not said a word since he showed up at her door in the early hours of the morning and collapsed into her arms.

17. Death had a way of taking everything he knew and flipping it upside down. Tenzin feels gutted, his insides having been removed from his body until he was left with just an empty shell of a body. Lin is not much better, and he remembers with the pain of a knife cutting into his chest that Aang was as good as her father, too. Would have been her father in a few months, had they gotten married as planned.

18. But the marriage never comes. Years pass and their relationship deteriorates, slipping through his fingers like fine pieces of sand. Sometimes he tries to catch them, but mostly he just lets them fall. He does not have the power to fight the woman who was always the one to lend him her strength when he was weak.

19. When a young acolyte with whom he had had a passing, amicable acquaintanceship for several years comes up to Tenzin the day after their worst fight yet, Tenzin makes his decision. He isn't repentant. Doesn't dwell on the consequences of accepting the young girl's love. For once, he is reckless. And he is not sorry—not in the way he knows he should be—and does not turn her away. She kisses him briefly on the cheek, explains that she knows he needs a family, knows he wants a wife and a settled life. He wonders how she—a girl in her early twenties with whom he has only had a strictly professional relationship—knows what he wants and needs, but realizes he doesn't care. She is right, and that is what matters. From his experience with her, he knows Pema to be a dedicated and honorable acolyte. She would make a good wife, he thinks. A good mother. He kisses her and does not listen to the voice in his head that tells him it is wrong.

20. When he sees Lin next, he does not immediately tell her. He waits for a time when he knows she will be too busy to hunt him down, if she takes the news badly, as he knows she will. If she is surprised, it does not show. He suspects that she knew all along that this is the way it would end. This does not make the pain any easier, but Tenzin suspects that Lin is stronger than even _he_ knows.

21. The day of Tenzin and Pema's wedding, there is a thunderstorm. His mother says that rain is good luck on one's wedding day, but he does not catch the glimpse of sadness and worry in her eyes as rolls of thunder move in and the party moves exclusively indoors. Lightning strikes across Yue Bay, and when he sees Lin dressed in black, standing alone on the edge of the dock in the rain, he is reminded of the little girl who kept his nightmares away.

That night, he does not sleep for fear of bright flashing lights and the image of his father replaced by his own body falling through the air.


	3. Katara

A/N: I would like to apologize for my absence. Real life had to take over for a while.

**Answer to Chapter Two with explanation:**

I wrote a "distractor" into the last chapter that, upon reflection, was much too close to being a lie for my tastes. I had written chapter two in two swings of inspiration, and thus number fifteen: _Like a naïve, ignorant child, Tenzin foolishly assumes that his father will never leave him. Death is so far from his mind that when his father falls ill, Tenzin does not even think to be more than a bit concerned until it is too late… _was written without necessarily keeping in mind that I had previously established that when he was little, Tenzin had nightmares about his father dying young. What I meant to say with number fifteen was that once Tenzin was a fully-grown adult, he was so confident in his father always being there for him that he did not think Aang would suddenly be gone from his life. I find that when you get older, you take your parents' presence for granted. You do not imagine that they will die until they are very old and gray. In my mind, although when Tenzin was a child he worried about his father's safety, he eventually got used to his father being the invulnerable Avatar. If it seems as though I contradicted myself, I apologize. I realize now that it was much clearer in my head than on paper, so to speak. I will try very hard to be much clearer in the future. I realize that numbers one and twenty-one would make fifteen seem like the correct answer and apologize for not expressing my thoughts in a better manner.

The answer I intended to be a lie, like many readers guessed, was number nineteen: _When a young acolyte with whom he had had a passing, amicable acquaintanceship for several years comes up to Tenzin the day after their worst fight yet, Tenzin makes his decision. He isn't repentant. Doesn't dwell on the consequences of accepting the young girl's love. For once, he is reckless…_In my opinion, Tenzin would not get together with Pema on a whim. I believe it was a very well-planned and carefully calculated move. (see _**The End**_, chapter nine: _Resiliency)_ As for whether or not he would tell Lin his plans, I am less certain. I think he would wait for "the proper time" to let Lin know that he was leaving her for good. I feel like he would want to be certain of Pema's love and willingness to be a mother before he left Lin completely.

So, there you have it. I apologize yet again for being long-winded.

A large thanks goes out to _justcallmehermione _for suggesting that I do the Gaang's Twenty Truths and a Lie before I tackle new characters like Korra and Mako so that I can watch Book Two and gain a better understanding of those characters before I tackle their truths. Suggestions of characters to do next are always welcome. I decided to do Katara, because I love the idea of her being a doting mother to all, including Lin.

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Warning: This chapter contains heavy subject matter. Please know that I do not use characters as personal mouth-pieces to spout off my beliefs. The situation discussed in this chapter is simply something that I believe could have happened between Toph and Katara, and nothing more. Also, in chapter 24 of _**The End,**_ I mention that Toph had explored "other options" before having a child. This piece gives some insight into that situation.

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**Twenty Truths and a Lie:** _Katara__  
_

1. Katara was the first to become a mother. Long before she had held Kya's precious little body in her arms, she had been a mother to all. She had taken to the role upon the death of her own mother, and never looked back. In the early days, Sokka would complain that she was more his mother than his sister, but he did so in jest. The truth was that he knew her need to take care of others was too strong to be ignored, and if that was what it took for her to feel closer to their late mother, who was he to complain?

2. Healing is as natural to Katara as breathing. She does not have to work for it, like she did when she was a young girl in the Southern Water Tribe painstakingly teaching herself how to push and pull the water. The proper knowledge of healing comes with time and careful study, but the skill is there, innate, already set into her DNA. She does not understand the extent of what she can do until she is thrown head-first into a war. After that, it seems irrelevant as to how she obtained the ability—only that she has it and uses it well.

3. Secretly, Katara often wonders how much different her life would be if she had been raised in the North Pole, where the people were spared from the worst of the war. Would she be happy in a place where women are taught to heal instead of fight? What would it be like, growing up in a proper family, with Kya and Hakoda to guide her? Would her father still have been called off to war?

_Would her mother still be alive?_

4. These questions plague Katara in the early hours of the morning, when sleep escapes her and the memory of a woman she hardly knew swings like a curtain over her eyes, blocking out the rising sun and the sleeping form of her husband beside her. More often than not, the waterbender spends the rest of the morning in a daze, checking on her children with shadows in her eyes and whispers of a world and a life she will never know—perhaps would not even _want_ to know—tickling her ears with their sweet, stubborn poison.

5. With no small amount of pain, Katara realizes that the fantasy of her mother living to see her wedding day would likely have come at the cost of meeting her husband. After all, had Katara in fact been raised in the North Pole, she would have never found the boy in the iceberg who would later save the world. Certainly, she would have lived a joyful, safe, sheltered life in the northernmost part of the world, but would she have been content to settle for such a life while people suffered and needed her outside the fortress of ice she called home?

6. The answers to her questions are the monsters under her bed and the demons in her closet. She does not acknowledge them because she loves the life she has lived and would not trade it for the world. She blames those thoughts—the ones of another life—on having grown up much too fast. She took on the world when she was too young to know its weight. She was a mother before she was properly a daughter or sister. She was a mother before she was a wife.

7. _And now,_ Katara thinks as she rears three children whose eyes (if she can help it) will never have to see the sights she saw at their age,_ it is time to truly step forward._ She dotes on them, forever the giving, loving mother, and has to be reminded that some lessons must be learned without a mother's touch.

8. The first rude awakening comes when Kya accuses her of being overbearing. It is summer, and Kya is fifteen. She insists that she is old enough to be allowed to roam Republic City on her own. Katara suspects that it is not the city Kya wishes to see, but a young boy who—if you asked her—was going nowhere, and fast. It was one of many fights the two waterbenders would have over the years, and one of few that Kya actually won. (Kya suspected her father's support of her had something to do with the softening of Katara's opinion on the matter).

9. Bumi was a mischief maker; this Katara knew from the moment he took a paint brush to his bedroom walls and doodled to his heart's content, at just five years old. He was a handful at the best of times, a right nuisance at his worst, but Katara could not help but look upon him with soft eyes and the patience of a monk. When he smiled his goofy smile and told his silly jokes, Katara could not help but see her brother in his place.

10. When her brother dies, and Katara still cannot keep the past from clouding over her vision, she sees a boy and his boomerang where Bumi sits at the dinner table and prays he does not notice when she points in front of him and asks "Sokka" to pass the rice.

11. Katara does not worry over Tenzin in the same way she does over his two older siblings. She trusts him to behave, and does not need to tell him the consequences of his actions—he already knows the price of rash behavior from years of watching his siblings cause trouble. He was never as impulsive as his brother or free-spirited as his sister. He was reliable and had an enormous amount of self-control. Yet, Katara could not help but wonder if he had grown up too fast, as she did...

12. While Katara knew Toph Bei Fong better than most, she did not pretend to understand her-least of all, her love life. When the nervous, rain-drenched chief of police arrived on Katara's doorstep late one evening, the healer knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. The stoic, tough-as-nails Chief was never one to be seen in a moment of vulnerability, and that was the only way to describe the shaking woman who paced Katara's living room floor for the better part of the night. After a few hours of gentle prying, the confession tumbled from the metalbender's blue lips in a rush, and Katara can still see in her mind's eye the way her friend folded into herself, drawing her knees up to her chest as she sat in the middle of the rug, scared and trembling like a child afraid of the dark.

13. Katara was never one to judge those closest to her. Despite her own strict moral code, she did not delude herself when it came to her friends' habits. She was always available to listen. She did not pass judgment or criticize when all her friends needed was a listening ear.

14. She had once told Toph that she would do anything to help. If she needed assistance, Katara was always only a stone's throw away. That night, when Toph explained in a hollow voice that her on-and-off-again lover had turned tail and run when she discovered she was pregnant, Katara did not know how to help, how to heal her friend's broken situation. For once, she was at a loss for words. But when the rather one-sided conversation took a turn for the worst, Katara could not stand to listen. She shook her friend's shoulders and yelled and did not stop until both their voices were hoarse and their energy spent.

15. There are few things in life that disturb Katara, having been a healer for nearly seventy years and counting. The loss of life, in whatever capacity, is one of them. The intentional_ taking_ of a life is another.

16. When Toph's expression had changed from one of a nervous mother-to-be to that of one who absolutely refused to take on the role, Katara was mortified and did not mince words in saying so. To a woman who had been a mother all her life, the thought of intentionally taking away a life that had yet-to-begin was unimaginable. She understood the reasons, and did not deny that there were circumstances that allowed for desperate measures to be taken, but Katara was certain Toph would be a wonderful mother, despite the woman's insistence to the contrary. Whatever her reasons, Katara did not want Toph's desperation to turn into regret.

17. Years later, when Toph had passed away and Lin was taken in by Aang and Katara, the waterbender could not help but wonder how the girl she had watched grow up was now, in all intents and purposes, as good as her own daughter. To be certain, motherhood was not the least bit foreign to Katara after raising three children, but to take in another, nearly grown, child was a new and enlightening process. Lin was not like her three children. She had Kya's spirit, Bumi's energy, and Tenzin's sense of responsibility. She was clever as she was quick, and feisty as she was strong. Not a day went by when Katara looked upon the new addition to their family and did not think of the woman with dark hair and light, unseeing eyes who did not stop smiling for days after her daughter was born, sang to the infant when she cried, and became the most beautiful mother, glowing with pride with every small success her child achieved.

18. Katara never once doubted Lin's dream to follow in her mother's footsteps. She does not try to stop her. She worries, of course; that cannot be helped. But she knows that Lin is strong (like her mother) and will protect the city with the same power and grace that Toph held.

19. When Tenzin and Lin get engaged, Katara fully expects to be the proud mother of the groom and bride, both. She knows Toph will be somewhere in the room, in spirit, laughing and grinning that goofy grin of hers that Katara could swear the earthbender stole and adapted from her brother.

20. When her husband dies, Katara is too grief-stricken to notice Lin slowly distancing herself from her son. She does not take note of the way they avoid one another, or the tension that grows whenever the two sit side-by-side at dinner. She does not see the darkness that shadows Tenzin's eyes, or the vacant stare of the chief of police. She does not see, because she does not wish to see. She has hope that the wedding will bring much needed light back into her life, and that the memory of her husband will be preserved in the grandchildren she expects will follow.

21. Katara was a mother long before she was a sister, aunt, or wife. She takes on the role of Gran-Gran with as much grace and wisdom as Kanna before her. She lives to see her third great-grandchild born, and passes away peacefully in her sleep. On her tombstone is written:_ Mother to all_, upon the request of a woman who was once a girl with green eyes and an infectious grin, who was taken into a family that was never quite one she could call her own. Tenzin heeds her request, and vows to never forget the mother he shared with not just two or three people, but the world.


End file.
